The Sweetest Dream of the Spectral Boy
by Not that way never go that way
Summary: (Sequel to The Greatest Fear of the Nightmare King.) Fearlings loom and crash haphazardly through their memories as Pitch and Jack dive into the Golden Ages to recover parts of themselves once thought lost.
1. Chapter 1

The war had only been going on for approximately one year when a smaller planet inhabited with too many people was attacked by the ever-consuming darkness. Planets had been attacked before, of course, but none had been so heavily populated as this particular one, and the increased amount of people meant increased danger.

A grand city of almost entirely hidden buildings due to the encouraged growth of once beautiful vine-like plants over them was now painted with ugly shades of black and red and those who were still alive saw nothing but a dark gray, even the sun itself refusing to shine upon the massacre taking place below. Soldiers fought their way through Nightmare Men, Fearlings, and even the shadows themselves just for their chance to get to, and hopefully save the living citizens who remained themselves despite the pain that surrounded them.

One particular foot soldier had felt sick enough to vomit the moment they landed and saw the bodies, and now battled more bravely than any of his comrades for the sake of the intensified hope some people will make it out of this and still have lives to lead and happinesses to experience. His sword was not grand, his armor nothing special, but the flame he had in his heart lay waste to the dark enemies until he made it to an inner part of the green city, having found not a single living person outside his comrades and needing to try harder and harder by the moment to hold himself up.

Like a miracle, the soldier did finally manage to find a group of people, most of them children and teens, hiding in fear behind one boy. This boy was a teen, not greatly younger than the soldier himself, and had skin that seemed conflicted between glowing like a star and fading like some otherworldly phantom, and his white hair only added to that effect. He was nothing like the soldier had ever seen, his light and courage scaring the darkness away just enough to keep the group safe for now, though the shadows seemed to be gradually creeping closer.

Leaping into action, the soldier swung his unimpressive blade out at the shadows, ridding of them and approaching the group as he quickly tapped his earpiece, informing the ship above them that he'd found survivors and that some of them may require medical attention once they'd been transported up. The boy seemed to calm down, relief clear on his face. "You saved us."

The soldier nodded, stepping closer to the group, who didn't seem sure everything was okay quite yet. _"Perhaps. Have any of you been tainted?"_

A shake of the head and a quick check of everyone's eyes indicated that no, they were safe. Despite thanks being given and questions being asked, the soldier tapped his earpiece once more, this time to indicate their safety, then telling the ship to send them up. With only a quick glance shared between the soldier and the spectral boy, the group was beamed up to the ship and the soldier kept fighting and searching, finding very few survivors after that, none in a group like the first.

It was odd to the soldier, and it was special to the spectral boy, so this was an occurrence they both remembered clearly, thinking back on it many times over.

Some memories glowed brighter than others, but no amount of brightness would ever be able to outshine the intense darkness of the day they met.


	2. Chapter 2

_The emptiness I was engulfed by gave some amount of relief from the oppressive feeling of the memory I'd been shoved into reliving upon entry to Jack's mind, though the return to being clawed at by a fearling was considerably regrettable._

 _Only a short time was spent on fighting it off before I was thrown painfully to the warm ground as I felt weaker than normally expected, but before the creature could strike again, a glint of brilliant blue appeared from behind it, shining through the mirage of fear and banishing it in a manner not unlike the sun might rid of the night- by revealing the truth of nothing really having been there at all._

"Koz, we can't afford to be caught off-guard, you said so yourself. My light can't heal you forever- and-! I..."

 _It took real effort not to growl at him as I pushed away his concerned hands trying to pry for a look at the long, shallow wound across my chest. "My apologies. Unlike some people, I find it difficult to be afraid of something that's a part of me. Perhaps if you hadn't been so afraid of your own darkness, you wouldn't be in this place, and I wouldn't be forced to fetch you lest I face the wrath of your friends." As I spoke, Jack's eyes widened and his demeanor changed from worried friend to something completely opposite- breathless relief. "Also, it may be of interest for you to be aware that if you call me Koz ever again, you will greatly regret it, so lets not dwell on who I was. He's dead. My name is Pitch Black now, and you would do well to_ _-..."_

 _Whatever threat I was about to make had been cut short by the arms suddenly wrapped tightly around my chest._ "Pitch.-" _His unusually soft voice broke in half and I could feel the sting of his tears falling into the cut on my chest._ "I...thought-."

 _When I lifted one hand to rest on his back, he held tighter, words_ _tumbling clumsily out of his mouth, some of them hard to understand due to quickness, slurring, and a few emotional hiccups._ "I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean for this to- h-appen..! I was just trying to feel better but everything only made me feel worse, and I couldn't find myself anymore and then I trapped myself in a cave, but it was an-an accident! I didn't mean to, but I thought I'd find a way out somehow, I thought you would help me a-and you didn't! Why weren't you there?!" _A few hits to my shoulder._ "I thought you hated me! You don't! You're here, so you don't! Why? Why does no one tell me anything when it's important?! And then I was suddenly here and it's been nothing but memories and darkness and fearings and Kozmotis and even he couldn't tell me anything, because he didn't remember anything! And now- n-ow..you're..." _Jack seemed to calm a bit, his previously balled hands relaxing and sliding down against me. After that, he went silent, either because he was just as unsure of what to say after his emotional outburst as I was, or because he still had a lot to say and was at a loss for of which to speak._

 _The grip around my middle was not released, despite my small and short attempt to get out of it. Jack sighed, turning his face so that I could hear him better._ "Did you hear me?"

 _"Honestly, you were a bit muffled at times, but yes, I got the idea."_

"Not that. When I..." _With another sigh, he finally let go, stepping back and staring at the void-like ground._ "When I went missing...did you look for me?"

 _"Would knowing that I heard every word and desperate plea you made to me make any difference? Look where we are, Jack. This is you. This darkness, these f_ _earlings. They're you. Now, they're me, too, and there is nothing we can do, no escape plan, no little faeries that will come to our rescue."_ _Something about what I was saying, about this situation, this setup felt too familiar, like it had happened once before, but I continued, gesturing toward him. "Yes. Of course I heard you, I'm the bogeyman, I hear it when someone cries out in fear of the dark. I felt every moment of that fear shaking my bones against my will until I thought even my immortal body might break from the pressure, rattling me constantly until I gave in and now? Now, we're stuck here. We're not getting out, so you might as well make yourself comfortable with the constant dark, foreboding memories, and the relentless fearlings clouding our souls."_

 _After that, our heated conversation was never to be finished, as we both were sent violently spiraling into another vision from the past, seemingly right on cue._


	3. Chapter 3

Nightmares of what happened on the planet still plagued Kozmotis one week into their month-long journey back to the Lunanoff constellation.

It made a difference that one of the very few people who had survived the onslaught of fearlings long enough to be rescued was now sharing a bed with him. Not a positive difference, but not an entirely negative one either. Having a solid reminder of a trauma around could not be considered a pleasant thing, but Nightlight had it worse than he. Kozmotis was not the one who had just lost his planet and most everyone on it, after all.

Nightlight hadn't spoken since his rescue, not even giving his name. Koz and a few of his fellow soldiers made an attempt to ask the other survivors about him, but none of them seemed to know his name either and had long ago taken to calling him Nightlight because of his unnatural glow. The name was quick to catch on, and Nightlight didn't seem to mind it the slightest.

Truthfully, Kozmotis was thinking about Nightlight so much to avoid thinking about the situation. Nearly none of the soldiers sent on this mission had been prepared, in fact, Koz himself would be easily and accurately fit into the description of 'new recruit', and the ship itself wasn't large enough to hold this many people. This was why he and Nightlight were sharing a bed. Granted, the spectral boy could have just as easily ended up with anyone else, but Koz had a suspicion that his superiors in charge of that had taken notice to the comfort Nightlight seemed to take in him, and the company was not unwanted. Kozmotis had always been afraid of the dark to some degree, and the living darkness that now has been attacking worlds at an alarming rate only added to that. Anyone in his place would take a comfort in having someone so soft and bright around as they slept.

Food was another problem. It had been a week, and resources were dwindling. They would soon be able to restock on a planet in their path, but only if they managed to last long enough for that. Kozmotis ate scarcely and Nitghtlight didn't eat at all, which was intensely worrisome, even if the other refugees claimed he's never needed food to survive.

" _Nightlight,"_ Kozmotis spoke softly to the boy beside him in the mess, who always came when Koz was eating just to sit and look at the people. Nightlight tilted his head to give his attention, leaning on his elbow lazily. That was the best answer one could hope for. " _I understand if you don't wish to talk about it, but there's something I need to know. I...need to know if you...how did you..."_ Words were not often easily come by, this past week. It used to be so easy, but with great fear came great hesitation. _"Before I got to you, somehow you managed to hold the fearlings back with nothing to protect you. Does your light repel them...or?"_

It seemed Nightlight had been expecting some other question, caught off guard. Still, he just shrugged and shook his head, which seemed to mean he wasn't sure, but he didn't think that was it.

 _"Then why did they seem to fear you?"_

This somehow earned a small, playful smile from him, a fun little glint in his eyes as he leaned in, pressing his open palm to Kozmotis's chest over his heart before sliding it away, winking and leaving the mess with Kozmotis staring after him in wonder and confusion. By the time he returned from the odd state he was in, Koz realized with both happiness and regret that Nightlight had apparently just taken his starfruit from right under his nose. Well, at least that was _one_ problem partially solved.

* * *

Kozmotis took Nightlight's unspoken advice to heart, whether or not the advice had actually been intended.

From then on, Koz began focusing on who he was, as a person, more than as a soldier. Who did he want to be?

He wanted to be the person who would have the courage to stand up against the living darkness to protect the people, even if circumstances seemed as hopeless as Nightlight's had. This was not the first time he'd heard rumors of the living darkness fearing those with a good heart. In fact, Tsar Lunanoff himself had recently gone public about his intentions and projects to find people in the military who had the most brave and selfless of hearts, and give them further boosts against the darkness- liquid light, it was currently being called.

That was who Koz wanted to be. A warrior with a heart of gold, someone that people who were suffering could look to and find hope for a time when the blight would be but bad memories and they'd get to spend their time recovering from the pain all of this has caused instead of running away from it and trying to survive somehow.

That night, as the two lay down to sleep, Koz turned to his side, facing Nightlight. " _Thank you."_

Nightlight mimicked the position, searching his eyes in clear confusion, his blueish glow lulling Koz into a kind of calm he didn't understand.

Before Kozmotis could explain himself, the ship's alarm went off and everything quaked, each of them grabbing the other's arm to stay steady as they realized what was happening, red lights blinking on and off keeping them in the present and getting both to scramble to ready themselves. Kozmotis managed to grab his meteor sword quickly, yanking urgently at Nightlight's hand with his own free one to try and guide him out of the room faster without losing him in the crowd of other panicked soldiers and refugees.

As they ran to find the escape pods, others barreled past them, sometimes with enough force to knock them over, their bodies falling atop each other. No one was going to wait for them to recover or help them up and soon they were lagging so far behind that when they reached the pods, all were gone.

Shrieking like that of a giant bat could be heard from the bridge, and soon that shrieking lowered into almost-human groaning as a misshapen creature of shadow rounded the corner, lurching toward them with both hunger and a deep sort of pain in its eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Pitch was gasping in pain until he realized that he was no longer experiencing the memory, once again finding himself in the odd murk where he and Jack had been previous to their conversation's interruption. There weren't any fearlings to be seen at the moment, but he wasn't going to let his guard down, especially since although his time in the memory had ended, Jack remained missing from the space.

Like deja vu, Pitch could almost see Jack's dead body laying on the ground in the distance- though he knew it was only the space giving him a reminder of his fear. He didn't need it, though. Pitch knows what he's fighting for, even who he's fighting for, it's only in figuring out how to go about saving the day without losing himself in the process that things got muddled.

Muddled is perhaps a loose term for him having next to no hope that he'd be able to make it out of Jack's mind alive and intact due to there being literally no way out.

As that thought passed through his mind, something heavy sunk deep into his gut.

* * *

Blood oozed generously from Kozmotis' gut where the fearling had slashed at him.

As the soldier fell to the floor, Nightlight held on to fall with him and soften the land, eyes fixed squarely on the otherworldly creature, light glowing brighter by the second until the fearing shrieked it's final shriek, disappearing under the pressure of the light.

Although the danger passed, Nightlight did not settle. He knew how to save his friend, but instead, he stared at the body in his arms, Kozmotis' consciousness having faded from the blood loss by this point. Nightlight panicked in his hesitation, fearing what may happen if he tried what he was about to try, but he had always been someone to care too much too quickly, and he could not let Kozmotis die in his arms.

Lifting his friend off himself to look at the damage, Nightlight let the gravity of everything hit him, allowing his tears to flow and fall into the wounds that had already begun to taint ominously black. Every person who had taken care of him since he was nothing but a small, parentless child, had died from that dark taint. Even the people he met afterward, who tried to befriend him despite his natural oddity, were now left for dead on the abandoned planet. Resolve and determination grew rapidly from his pain, the courage he held and his desire to save the only person he had left embedding his tears with blueish light that burned hot to the touch.

Kozmotis would be saved, but there would be consequences to this. Still, Nightlight could feel nothing but relieved to see color return to his friend's face, deciding then that whatever happened, he just had to ensure that Koz never felt the taint of darkness again. Nothing would be able to stop him from remaining by his side, guarding him forever from evil. Kozmotis' heart would have to be incorruptible, and no matter the dangers they were surely to someday face, he would make sure that it was. He had to.

* * *

When Pitch awoke, he was comfortable. So comfortable in fact, that he couldn't even bother to open his eyes, instead nesting himself deeper in the cool fabric he held on to, only to have it twitch and make a completely useless attempt to escape.

"We...um." Jack's voice rumbled, sounding both hesitant and fond as he continued, "Pitch...can we talk about this?"

Pitch let out a long-suffering sigh, clearly uninterested. _"Talk?"_

Feebly, Jack gave another push, but Pitch held on, not even bothering to open his eyes. It really was difficult to get out of, enough so that Jack was even mildly impressed by the effort Pitch decided to put into ensuring they remained in their position. "I get the impression there's a lot you're not telling me."

 _"You don't say."_

The comment earned a wry smile, which Jack decided to hide in Pitch's hair. If Pitch wouldn't let go of him, he may as well take advantage of what little comfort he could get. It wasn't often that someone could stand his temperature long enough for this kind of contact. "You're not usually this clingy. If I didn't know better, I'd say Kozmotis was affecting you."

 _"I've put myself in a dire situation in hopes of rescuing you from this place somehow, and it comes as a surprise that I care?"_

The tone seemed to sift instantly, Jack's body stiffening in shock. "...yeah, I would say, yeah, it does. Yup. So, you...you did hear me, back then. You know that I-"

 _"Yes, Jack. I know."_

"Good. That's-" A beat and a calming breath. "That's cool."

A noise escaped Pitch that made Jack tense in worry before he realized that it wasn't a whine of pain but rather a small laugh. _"We're trapped in an endless hallucination, being forced to relive every terrible moment that led us here."_ After his laugher died down, Pitch opened his eyes and pulled away just enough to see Jack's face, coming to a decision. _"Perhaps this kind of situation is just I needed."_

The two began to stand, helping one another up. _"Do your powers work?"_

Jack nodded, brushing himself off. "Sure. What d' you want?"

A clearly diabolical expression took over Pitch as he took Jack's hand, opening his palm and swirling a dark image of a fearling in what was likely imagined nightmare sand. _"Let's have a little fun. Unless Jack Frost has given up on his **center**."_

"Of course not," Jack gave an answering smile of equal challenge, excitement lighting up his eyes. "You're on, _B_ _ogeyman_. This is happening. It was too late to back out before you even said anything."

* * *

((Author's Note: Someone commented on this fic today and it made me so happy! Thank you! You asked for an update because you liked the story, so I got on it immediately! Also, thank goodness I am finally getting down to developing their relationship. Sorry it's been taking so long, guys. It's really hard to do the enemies to friends to lovers thing.))


	5. Chapter 5

Sounds of battle awoke Kozmotis from his pain-induced slumber and he yanked himself up to find that Nightlight had taken his sword and been fighting off fearling after fearling with it, looking very much worse for wear.

With a sharp intake of breath and startling lack of effort, Kozmotis stood immediately, simultaneously taking back his sword and pulling Nightlight behind him protectively, swinging relentlessly at the dark creatures. Damage was being done and although they pulled through in the end, Kozmotis was not without scathe.

The two ran down the corridors, opening door after door in search of anyone else who had perhaps not made it into an escape pod, but they only found shadows and bodies possessed by them, moving about mindlessly. It was sickening. Sorrow and something akin to regret swirled through Nightlight's chest as he opened another door, this time with an abandoned body of someone he vaguely recognized from the crew as having been the cook laying on the floor, mangled unnaturally and with eyes so dark he felt they could swallow the universe. Kneeling beside the body, he reached out to close the man's eyes only to have Kozmotis grab his hand long before it could make contact.

When Nightlight turned, he saw that Kozmotis looked as though he wanted to cry, but didn't know how to do it without breaking. _"I don't know if you're eager to die or if you've somehow managed to be somewhere else every time it happens, but don't touch him. I don't want you to. I knew him, he was...a friend. It gives no one peace to have others die because of their corpse."_

Nightlight nodded in seeming understanding and Kozmotis let go, only to watch in shocked horror as Nightlight went to close the man's eyelids anyway, his light glowing brightly as the man's black veins faded and the body reshaped itself into a natural laying position. The man was still dead, and the shadow had left his body long before they even found him, but at least the virus of darkness was gone now.

For a good number of seconds, Kozmotis could only stare breathlessly between the body and Nightlight in both awe and worry. _"What are you?"_ He asked, although he didn't truly expect an answer. It was obvious that the guy had been through quite a lot of trauma, and although Kozmotis still sometimes felt the ring of Nightlight's voice, he suspected it would be a long time if ever he got to really hear it again. The answer he did get instead of words however was equally enigmatic, as Nightlight gave him a weak smile, reaching out his hand and mimicking a motion he'd made once before in an instant that Kozmotis had thought about a lot since and tried to interpret many times.

This time, Kozmotis placed his own hand over Nightlight's, holding it there over his heart and closing his eyes. _"Not only just now. You saved my life earlier. You don't have to tell me how or why if you don't want to, but I can see that your light is getting dimmer. I don't suppose you'll tell me how long I was out back there, but..."_ He opened his eyes to see Nightlight had shifted closer. _"You look worn. And dim. I don't want you to burn out."_

In response, Nightlight leaned forward, lightly touching their foreheads together, and again Kozmotis could feel that ring in his head. Almost, Kozmotis could know what Nightlight was saying. Almost. Instead, he could just get the vague sense that he was understood and that Nightlight would do his best not to burn out. It wasn't much when he thought about it, but the force of the feeling hit hard.

* * *

As they sat together in the dark, Jack curled up and hugged his legs in a corner his imagination created for himself, eyes downcast. It seemed that whenever they tried to do anything, a memory interrupted them. Even if they did have a moment to themselves, Jack began to wonder about the things he was seeing, the thoughts those ponderings led him to pulling him down dark paths. "Did you know who I was?"

 _"No. I hardly remember Nightlight. I hated him. I wanted to crush him, I wanted to watch as his eyes filled with pain and suffering-"_

Jack interrupted with a chuckle. "Sounds like you remember him plenty."

Pitch simmered down a bit, going quiet for a moment as he rearranged himself to mimic Jack's position, eyeing him sideways with an odd look that would not be caught by anyone. _"There are still some things I don't remember from those days. I was still finding my feet, caught between light and dark. The fearlings wanted him to die, but Kozmotis cared too much about him. I suppose their desires are what shaped my actions. In the end, I wanted him to be my fearling prince."_

The warmth of the ground here was unsettling Pitch, so he pushed himself closer to Jack until their arms touched, Jack watching him do this in disbelief. "Your...- prince?"

 _"Old habits die hard, I suppose. If you had joined me when I made the offer, I would have tried the same thing I tried with him."_

"Nice. I wonder how far back my past really goes. Seems like every time I think I know myself, something comes up to prove I don't."

Pitch only shrugged, pealing Jack's hand away from his knees to hold it. _"I didn't know. If I did, I would have told you in pieces and used it to manipulate you into joining me."_

This earned another chuckle, this time a bit more satirical in nature. "Like what the man in the moon has been doing, basically."

The grip on Jack's hand instantly grew tighter, uncomfortably so, making him look up to see the hard look across Pitch's face. _"That's right, Jack. The man in the moon has been manipulating you. He could have told you who you were immediately, but instead he waited for hundreds of years until you were desperate enough to join the Guardians just so that you could get a small portion of your memories back. He isn't to be trusted. He isn't to be followed. He will do whatever it takes to ensure that those he rules over are happy all the time."_

"...isn't that a good thing?"

 _"No, Jack. It isn't."_

With a drawn out sigh, Jack flattened his legs and leaned against Pitch's arm, hoarding his warmth for who knows how long until he spoke. "I guess you're right. That sucks. This situation sucks."

 _"How eloquent."_


	6. Chapter 6

Whimpering from the void.

The two spirits arose immediately, putting their backs against one another to ready for a fight that didn't come. Instead, the whimpering continued to creep in until it's source could be seen.

In front of Pitch limped a massive and lanky nightmare man, every inch of it nearly as dark as their surroundings. There were no whites in it's eyes, no flash of pink as it wet it's lips, and it oddly made no move against them, now standing a few feet away.

As Pitch was well aware, nightmare men operated differently to fearlings. Fearlings could be described as dark essence extracted from children, given just enough life to act out. Oppositely, nightmare men were actual whole individual spirits who were once people possessed by the dark scourge. Pitch had always found the distinction important because while nightmare men were far stronger and could last in the light much longer, their individuality never left them, and because of this were often both unreliable and unpredictable.

Case in point, the nightmare man stood there now, still six feet away from the pair, doing nothing but groaning. The limping had stopped, and it didn't seem interested in going anywhere, just standing there as though waiting for instructions.

That was how Pitch interpreted it, at least. _"Leave."_

From behind Pitch, Jack made a face, pushing his way in front and casting a quick glare to his partner. "Dude. It's not gonna listen to you, we're in my head. I got this." With a whirl of his hand, snowflakes and spirals of frost burst toward the nightmare man, freezing his legs to the ground effectively. "What is this thing?"

 _"Show some respect. It's more person than you're used to, Jack. It experiences pain."_ Despite his upsetting words, Pitch methodically approached the creature, eyeing the height as approximately twice Jack's, despite the slump of it's body making it not much taller than Pitch himself. The groaning and whimpering became fearful hissing that increased in volume with each passing moment of it being partially encased in ice, and there was some level of hesitation for Pitch in what to do with it. Although it didn't seem harmful to them at the moment, every part of his being screamed at him to kill it as quickly as possible, the fear of being at the whim of that kind of darkness again overwhelming.

Before Pitch could make a decision, Jack made one for him. "Would ya look at that. I think it likes you, Pitch."

 _"If you think hissing aggressively is how one expresses affection."_ As he spoke, Pitch backed away, feeling sick from just being around one of these creatures again.

"Hey, I don't judge. Some people express affection through nightmares, so you never know." The joke was lined with a hint of bitterness, but the fact that Jack was even trying to make light of what happened showed progress on some level, at least. "Look at the eyes, they practically scream for a hug, and the yellow looks just like yours! We should keep him. Or her. Do you think it's a boy or girl?"

With a startling amount of urgency, Pitch grabbed on to Jack's shoulders, moving to hide the monster from Jack's line of sight. _"It shouldn't so much as exist, much less be used as a pet! These things are unstable and capricious. They may not be able to possess another being, but just existing in the vicinity of one like this puts us both at extreme risk."_

For a moment, Jack looked crestfallen. He felt like this creature had no desire to hurt them- after all, he'd only been half-joking about the eyes, they really did look big, adorable, and glowy. Pitch was probably right about all of this, but that didn't mean Jack was about to just give in and do whatever he could to stay safe. Danger is his middle name, anyway. "I don't care. We need to do something other than kill things and live and sleep and get memories shoved into our brains like we're just watching the lives of other people and not living one. If we're never getting outta here, I'm not just laying around. I'm bored, and we're getting nowhere."

Pitch opened his mouth to retort, but closed it when he realized he had nothing to say to that. They had nothing to lose at this point except their lives, and when they're both existing in a place between life and death, even that point becomes a bit moot. And so, despite Pitch feeling like he couldn't breathe for a moment, he gritted his teeth and used every bit of strength he could muster to kick the ice at the nightmare mare's feet, releasing him.

They both watched as the creature fell to the ground and coo'd like a bird from the back of it's throat, staying on the ground and eventually just looking up at them, switching it's gaze periodically between the two spirits.

"So...boy or girl?"

There was no small amount of disgust laced in Pitch's voice as he forced himself to respond. _"There's no way of knowing. The dark scourge takes everything out of you until you're no longer an individual."_

Jack nodded seriously, taking in the information and kneeling in front of the nightmare man to match level, reaching out his hand toward it. "If you don't have individuality, let's make some. Your name is Skarrow. This is Pitch, and I'm Jack." As Jack spoke, the creature surprisingly took Jack's hand, standing up with him and staring intensely as Jack motioned to Pitch and himself respectively. "Can you talk?"

It was frustrating, to Pitch, that Jack was even trying this. Obviously, nightmare men cannot speak, as they aren't people anymore. They understand speech, on some level, but speaking is far beyond their abilities. What bothered him most about it, however, was that Pitch himself, was, in a way, a nightmare man, and seeing this creature before him was a reminder of what he could be, and might some day turn into.

'Skarrow' did not speak, but just as Jack was thinking there would be no response at all, the nightmare man's head dipped just enough that it could be called a bow, it's eyes never leaving Jack.


	7. Chapter 7

Nightlight knew he was going to burn out.

Not in the sense that he would run out of energy to get by, but rather that he was literally running out of light to produce. He and Kozmotis took to hiding from the fearlings as often as possible while still searching the ship for other survivors, of which there had thus far been none. Everyone had either escaped on a pod or been cannibalized by the scourge.

They had just made their way into the hold where food was kept when a tiny squeak could barely be heard from behind a crate. Nightlight shared a look of apprehension with Kozmotis, worried that it may be another fearling, but nonetheless they cautiously pressed forward until they could see the top of someone's head- a small, quivering child with somewhat eccentric features that made it clear she was from the same planet as Kozmotis' own.

As soon as she saw them, tears started to fall from her eyes as she burst toward both of them, holding on to each of their legs and clinging as though her life depended on it. Without hesitation, both Nightlight and Kozmotis fell to their knees in attempts to comfort and quiet her, all the while fearing that the noise would bring the fearlings to them.

After many hushed words of 'it's okay, we're going to keep you safe' and similar platitudes from Kozmotis, she calmed enough to wipe her face off with her sleeve, looking to Kozmotis as she finally spoke actual words. "W-what's the-...where's dad?"

Dread built in Nightlight's heart as the situation began to clear itself and connections were made. Granted, this was a large ship and he didn't know for sure yet, but her features and Nightlight's gut instinct were hinting that her father was...

One look to Kozmotis confirmed that this was, no doubt, the child of Kozmotis' dead friend. The absolute horror and clear understanding on his face said everything. Perhaps the worst of it was that Nightlight knew Kozmotis had to be the one to tell her, not only because he knew him, but because Nightlight was incapable of speaking now. One of the many moments that truly made Nightlight wish he could have his voice back, even if just to ease the stress on Kozmotis.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, such a thing was not to be, and they were stuck with Kozmotis' somewhat blunt answer. _"Your father is dead. It's just us now, Emily."_

Emily did nothing but stare blankly at them both for a few seconds, her gaze switching between them a couple times before it landed definitively on the floor, where it stayed. "I'm hungry." Her words were subdued, and she leaned her head against Kozmotis' chest, though her hand still refused to let go of Nightlight's leg, despite his attempt to pull away.

Since she seemed so keen on keeping it, Nightlight gave up getting away and instead maneuvered himself back up and reached over toward the crate Emily had been hiding behind, pressing a button on it's side to release the lock and opening it up, revealing the jars of food hidden inside as Kozmotis spoke gently. _"Okay. Nightlight's getting you something, but for now, we have to keep our voices down, alright? We're going to protect you, but we all have to stay in here and not make too much noise or we'll all be in a lot of danger. Understand?"_

Emily nodded her head as Nightlight handed her an opened jar, which she pulled away from both of them to grab and reach into, ravenously stuffing the somewhat lumpy and gooey substance into her mouth.

They traded the jar around occasionally, though neither Kozmotis nor Nightlight had much of an appetite. By the time the jar was halfway gone, so was Nightlight's glow. They could hardly see one another anymore, even though when they walked in, he'd lit up the room with his presence. Emily was finished eating, so she set the jar down and looked up at Nightlight, standing up and holding her head high. "Are you dim because the sun's gone?"

This question clearly caught Nightlight off-guard, but he answered nonetheless with a few affirmative nods. Kozmotis stared at him in surprise. _"Your light is powered by the sun?"_ Another nod.

Kozmotis looked to Emily in astonishment. _"How did you know that?"_

Emily just shrugged proudly. "Dad said moon lights secretly run on starlight."

Truthfully, she was only half-right. Nightlight was definitely running out of light because of the lack of sun, but just being in the sun wouldn't cut it anymore with this amount of drain. There was no way he was going to get that light back once it was gone.

And it was certainly going to be gone very soon, if he wasn't careful.


	8. Chapter 8

((Author's Note: I kinda thought no one cared about this story anymore, and I lost motivation to express it even though I've never stopped plotting it. Someone made a comment to tell me they want to know how it ends, and if there's just one person who wants to keep reading it, then I will keep writing it! I have lots of inspiration but there's no reason to write it down unless someone's there to listen, y'know? Anyway! Here it is!))

* * *

Kozmotis, Nightlight, and Emily remained in the storage room, even as hours passed and Emily fell asleep across Kozmotis' lap.

Nightlight was hardly visible.

Every now and again, a shriek would be distantly heard from somewhere on the ship, and Nightlight would silently thank the fact that the little girl slept through it. Faintly, the red emergency light from the hallway could be spotted through the crack under the door, and he watched it vigilantly, tensing and placing himself between the door and his companions whenever the light would darken for a moment as a dark being of some kind passed by on the other side.

But it wasn't sustainable. As he dimmed, Nightlight began to feel a pain in his lungs that only got worse until he couldn't stop himself from letting out a faint cough into his hand, prompting Kozmotis to look up at him in concern as he lowered his palm that now held faintly glowing dust.

It was scary. Nightlight was used to standing in the line of darkness to protect others, used to being the one source of light and hope for anyone willing to but their faith in him, but he wasn't used to not having a light to give. If his light faded, what would he do when Emily woke up, terrified? Somehow, as the light in him dimmed, as it seemed did his courage. It would have been strange to think, before, but now that Nightlight thought about it, he realized that the light had always made him feel as though he wasn't alone when he stood against the darkness. Now, he was alone, and that made something completely different in his chest spike in longing, the emotion intense enough to project a subtle ringing sound.

Not knowing what to do with this feeling, Nightlight finally tried to pull himself out of his thoughts, suddenly realizing that his breathing had become rapid and heavy when he searched the darkness to see the bright eyes of Kozmotis watching him.

For a few moments, they only watched each other, as if they could somehow communicate their thoughts and feelings telepathically if they stared hard enough, and somehow, it kind of worked. Nightlight was pleading for help, but clearly had no clue how to calm down, and Kozmotis understood. Normally, the boy seemed a complete mystery, but panic was something he knew all too well from the day they met. Without a word, Kozmotis nodded his head in a beckoning motion and Nightlight practically fell to his knees in hurry to wrap his arms around Kozmotis, hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

* * *

Pitch awoke with a gasp of pain in his lungs, toppling him over until he was hacking into the ground, his brain hardly even registering the sound of fighting nearby.

As the fit ended, Pitch blinked his bleary eyes at the light and glittery dust now scattered in front of him, his mind taking a moment to catch up with his surroundings until a clang! finally alerted him to Jack and the nightmare man fought together against a few fearlings that seemed to have their red eyes trained on Pitch despite the battle.

In a hurry, Pitch pushed himself to his feet and summoned his scythe, slicing straight through one of them and backing up as he realized there were more than just a few enemies, his back touching Jack's, who glanced back at him and smiled teasingly.

"Nice to see you're finally awake. I was beginning-" Jack had to stop mid-sentence, focusing his strength on pushing back a fearling until it fell to the ground. "-to think that you were gonna pull a sleeping beauty on me." He opened his mouth to say something else, his smile getting wider, but Pitch had to maneuver around him to protect him from a surprise close call.

 _"Watch out for yourself, Frost."_ Pitch admonished as he thought, if only it were that simple to wake someone from a deep sleep.

Luckily, it didn't take too long for them to finish the fight after that, the beings fading once more into the darkness, leaving Pitch and Jack a bit winded from the fight.

"Really though, Pitch, what was that? You were out of it for waaay longer than me and then you wake up coughing? Wait, does the Bogeyman even get sick?" Jack spoke as he glanced behind him, checking on Skarrow to see him laying down and...falling asleep, seemingly.

 _"Of course not."_ Pitch said this, even though he honestly had no idea. Getting sick had never been a problem before, but he truthfully did not understand how he could even still be alive, now that the fearlings in his body were gone and Kozmotis was dead.

Pitch let his gaze wander back down to the floor, where the dust glowed softly, wondering whether or not Kozmotis had truly died within him, or if perhaps something else had happened entirely.

"The hell is this stuff?"

Jack had bent down to pick up some of the light dust, his confusion falling very abruptly into terrified understanding as he gripped it tightly in his hand, looking at Pitch with concern and accusation in equal parts. "This was supposed to be mine. Why-" Jack's voice broke, feeling close to tears but still not letting himself look away from Pitch. "Why do you have it. How-." He couldn't finish. The broken memory of what happened what too fresh in both of their minds, and they both acutely felt everything Kozmotis and Nightlight had felt. It was all the worse to see things from a shared history both had forgotten, to show up and point fingers. Especially when Jack knew so little of it and Pitch knew so much more.

Feeling as though nothing he could say would ever be enough, Pitch stayed silent.

The silence in the face of a question so important pissed Jack off, the dust in his hand fusing itself with a snowball, which he promptly dropped on the ground unceremoniously in favor of marching forward and gripping the lapel of Pitch's robes. "Answer me!"

When Pitch still took too long to say anything, Jack's expression began to fall from angry to lost. In the end, he wasn't even sure what exactly the dust meant or why he so deeply hated the thought of Pitch having it somewhere within himself. It just felt incorrect and sad, without reason. Was that the part of him that was Nightlight, trying to tell him something? If it was, this was an awful way to go about it, he decided.

Something is Pitch's gaze began to soften sympathetically. _"I wasn't in con-"_ Pitch shut his eyes, pausing to take a breath and start again, correcting himself. _"Kozmotis wasn't even in control of it, there was nothing he could had done. I'm not him, I only have his body-"_

Rage boiled up to the surface without warning and Jack gritted his teeth as he sucker punched Pitch in the face, the shock of it sending Pitch to the ground. Jack promptly followed, getting on top of him and grabbing hold of his robes again, with both hands this time, to pull him up and force him to look him in the eyes. "You're lying to me, Pitch! I know, everything that's been happening has been nebulous and confusing! You wanna know what was happening before you got here?!"

Pitch said nothing. He hadn't even thought about it.

"I was with Kozmotis! He was here, talking to me and getting himself hurt trying to protect me from those fearlings! And then you show up, and-. And! If you, or Kozmotis, or whatever you're going by did something to me, or Nightlight, or whoever I am, then I'm right here, and you have to- just, say something!" Hiccups had made their way into Jack's words by this point, accompanied by droplets of tears falling between them.

In some attempt to stop Jack from spiraling further, Pitch stopped cradling his painful jaw to reach out and wipe at one of Jack's tears. _"Am I like him?"_

"...What?" Jack croaked.

The possibility that Kozmotis had remained alive, in some form, in their hearts, was legitimate. Perhaps all it took for Pitch to realize that maybe Kozmotis truly was never a separate entity from himself and instead was only a part of his past he didn't want to accept because of what came with the light. If he were to accept Kozmotis, he would have to let himself experience all of the guilt that came with all of his actions as Pitch, and that was too much to stand.

When Pitch finally spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, and it seemed like it was completely irrelevant, but it most certainly was not. _"I've always believed in you, Jack."_

Jack's grip slackened, letting Pitch fall back and catch himself on his hands without missing a beat.

 _"Kozmotis also believed in Nightlight, before he truly knew him. Even after everything that happened with your moon dust, I think he never stopped believing you would save him, somehow."_


	9. Chapter 9

Shadows weighed heavily on the ship as the fearlings, discombobulated as they had been with one another until this point, began to find a synergy through the force of their hunger. It didn't take long for them to sniff out the few remaining living beings left, and Kozmotis scrambled for his sword, jumping in front of Emily and Nightlight, slashing wildly just to keep the dark creatures at bay.

Emily's heart thumped unnaturally loud as she awoke with a start. The first thing she saw, the image of a Nightlight without any glow and completely conked out, being gnawed at by something dark and feral that she didn't have the time to understand before she'd gathered all her strength and smacked it away with a forceful kick across the room. Desperate and scared, she leaned over Nightlight and placed her hand on his chest over his heart in a child's attempt at checking for a pulse, tears already welling in her eyes.

Kozmotis took a second to glance down at Emily and Nightlight to ensure their safety and found that there was no way the three of them were going to get out of this alive. It was hopeless. Nightlight is possibly dead or infected, and Emily was just a child. Kozmotis was vastly outnumbered here, and he was no great warrior. Never had he so much as seen fearlings with his own eyes before this journey. He'd hardly even been trained.

In a search for something, anything that wasn't just giving up, a series of blindingly bright memories began flash through Kozmotis' mind.

One after the other, pieces had been placed in front of him, by Nightlight. From the moment he first saw him. Despite being vastly outnumbered, Nightlight stood against the fearlings and his light shone to cut through the dark. Kozmotis had never seen anyone who was not only so brave as to do so, but to give everyone the feeling that they would be safe. In the short time they'd known each other, Kozmotis had learned to interpret and understand a lot from his vague gestures and playful smiles. The spectral boy may have always been enigmatic, but he practically exuded peace.

He'd learned to have courage to stand against hopelessness.

If worst came to worst, they would all be infected. Kozmotis had to do this right. There must be no room for fear in his heart.

All within the span of a few seconds, Kozmotis dropped his sword and yanked the nearest fearling toward himself and promptly bit hard into the nebulous substance it was made of. The creature shrieked and Kozmotis felt himself trying not to gag on the sensation as though he'd just eaten a rotten egg, and found himself nearly suffocating as the darkness of the varmint flowed into his eyes and nose as well as his mouth. When it was done, nothing was left of the creature, and Kozmotis felt...powerful. As though instead of infecting himself with a virus meant to weaken, kill, and eventually take control of him, this act had instead fortified his bones and strengthened his resolve to protect Nightlight and Emily.

Emily stared in wonder as Kozmotis seemed to grow the slightest bit taller, looming over the fearlings as if they were his prey and not the other way around, and biting them one at a time until all had either hurried away or been absorbed into him.

It was scary, but when he turned around for her to see his face once all the danger had gone, his face had become gentle and caring. There was no sign of infection or evil in sight, and she immediately ran to him, sobbing as she shut her eyes and grasped her arms around the neck he presented as he bent down to pick her up, offering soft reassurances and rubbing her back.

Without letting go of Emily, Kozmotis reached with his free arm toward Nightlight's motionless hand, feeling no pulse just as the room was rushed by soldiers there to rescue them.

For nearly everyone on that ship, it was just too late.

They of course immediately checked the three of them for infection, all negative. In a blank daze, Kozmotis reported to them about the attack, and they responded by telling him of how many other survivors on the ship there were and about who had started the distress signal, but it all felt unimportant. Even his managing to somehow miraculously rid of those fearlings felt unimportant, if not for Emily. There'd been such an adrenaline rush of belief that things would just work out as long as he held no fear, but instead, now all he was left with was numbness and a crying child. He was glad to have saved her, but if belief was the answer, then why couldn't he have saved Nightlight? Or any of the now-dead refugees all over the ship?

Why did he get to live, when the only person who was truly courageous had died?

* * *

When Pitch awoke this time, he was crying in Kozmotis' stead, why not, when he'd been so unable to cry over what happened to Nightlight back then, too stuck in the shock of it all? Now, there was so much space within Jack's mind where he was allowed to breathe and understand how hard of an experience it had been. Jack himself was right there beside him with an odd and somewhat goofy look on his face, and it felt like a home.

 _"That's disturbing."_ Pitch blinked and glared at Jack as though that odd thought had been all his fault.

"No, what's disturbing is you saying something cryptic and then falling asleep on me." Jack cocked an eyebrow and gave a halfhearted smile. "I didn't see anything. Do you...wanna talk about it?"

 _"Talk?"_ Pitch asked, acting as though the very concept of communication was new despite it coming out a bit strangled.

Jack nodded gently, taking a deep breath only to release it slowly as he gathered courage and reached out to him, his hand wiping away some wetness on his cheeks to make a point.

The point was well made. In that soft moment, Pitch did feel like maybe he could talk to Jack. Tell him everything about how he felt. But that would be far too much, so he would just start with this. _"You saw nothing because Nightlight died. It was so long ago, and I wasn't me yet, and you died."_

Although he tried not to, Jack felt a little happy that Pitch would wake up crying to the knowledge of his death- to know that he cared that much...but it wasn't really Jack. It was Nightlight, he reminded himself. He was a different person- a person that Jack hardly remembered being at all. Once that was all sorted through in his head, though, one thing just didn't seem to add up. "But...I'm...? Not dead. I mean, I am definitely very dead, but that's not-"

 _"No, you're right. Nightlight never truly died. I met him again, years later."_


End file.
